


Enigma

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-09
Updated: 2009-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The enigmatic Colin Morgan keeps staring at Bradley, which is starting to make Bradley really really nervous…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enigma

♦

Colin’s inscrutable blue gaze had first alighted on Bradley weeks ago, of course, but in recent times it had taken to _resting_ on him, _settling_ on him, _weighing_ on him, until Bradley felt like he was caught in a web and the spider was sitting there enigmatically watching him, waiting, biding his time. At first it had been welcome, flattering, because no actor will ever really object to being watched. (Well, all right, Bradley amended, that wasn’t entirely true, but the boundaries were _way_ out there.) Lately, however, Colin’s gazing habit had started feeling a bit peculiar, a bit strange, even at odd unexpected moments _dangerous_. Although no one would ever take Bradley seriously if he suggested that the lovely, the nice, the show’s blue–eyed boy Colin Morgan was actually kinda scary sometimes. So he kept quiet about the gazing, and he bore it, and occasionally tried to return it. But Bradley was always the one who looked away first.

♦

They were all a long way from home while filming in France, so the two of them often hung out together in the evenings, watching DVDs or listening to music in one hotel room or another. There was nowhere to sit other than the bed, so they’d pool both rooms’ pillows and sit or sprawl against the headboard. That got comfortable surprisingly quickly, and it stayed that way for a surprisingly long time – partly because Colin just stayed on his back while watching the TV, and he hardly even glanced at Bradley when it was a matter of two guys lying on a double bed together. Gazing enigmatically under such circumstances could easily create misunderstandings and cause offence. Even Colin Morgan wasn’t _that_ scary. At least, not so far.

Until one night, after a long day of filming twenty–three takes for every scene, and banter with the cast that had gone awry, and attempts to film video diaries that weren’t welcome and had to be erased afterwards, and even a screaming argument breaking out between three of the crew… Ugh. Bradley had really got to the point where he was wondering if he mightn’t want to be alone for once that evening…

Except on this particular night, Colin blithely walked in through Bradley’s hotel room door regardless. Arranged his armful of pillows on the bed. Put a new tape into his video camera, pressed the record button, and set it on the bedside table.

‘What’s that for?’ Bradley asked irritably as he settled in his usual place beside Colin, and reached for the TV remote.

And Colin turned towards him, lying there on his side, legs curling up a bit – and that thoughtful blue gaze settled on him once more – and Colin said in his inscrutable accent, ‘Tell me all, so.’

‘Tell you all what?’ Bradley muttered.

‘Tell me all about you. Explain to me the enigma that is Bradley James.’

Bradley scowled. ‘Shut up!’

‘Go on.’

‘Are you fucking serious? After a day like today, you want me to give you my life story?’

‘If that’s what it takes.’

Bradley cast an unhappy glance at him, and returned to toggling through the channels. Not that there was anything on, and nothing reasonable in English; there wasn’t even a game of football in any language whatsoever. ‘Fuck off, would you? I’m not in the mood. Especially not if I have to keep it clean for the audience.’

‘I’m not recording it for the diaries.’

‘No?’

‘I’m recording this for me.’

Bradley toggled the channel button again. Thought about how deeply weird the allegedly lovely Colin Morgan was. Tried another channel. No use. _God!_ He turned off the TV, dropped the remote, and wrapped his arms across his chest. ‘Do you have _any_ idea,’ Bradley said, ‘how strange that sounds?’

Colin just grinned at him. ‘Humour me.’

‘For God’s sake!’ Bradley flung himself to his feet, went over to fetch the half–finished bottle of scotch and his iPod. Took a serious swig of the scotch as he came back to the bed, then handed it to Colin while he resettled himself. Colin took a swig as well, and then took the earbud Bradley gave him. Once Bradley had put the other earbud in, he selected random and hit play. Took another mouthful of scotch. Tried not to think very hard about the fact they’d both put the earbuds in their outside ears, which meant their inside ears were available for listening to each other, which meant that they were Going To Have A Talk.

Colin let him have one song and three more swigs of scotch before he started up again. ‘Talk to me, Bradley. I want to understand.’

‘Understand _what_ , for God’s sake? _You’re_ the fucking enigma, Colin Morgan, not _me_.’

Colin snorted an inelegant laugh, and then lilted, ‘Am I, so?’

‘Yes.’

That blue gaze was resting on Bradley, but it was kinda warm now, and not so threatening. As if it was simply considering him. ‘Do you want to keep me a mystery?’ Colin eventually asked. ‘Or do you want my life story?’

Bradley just shrugged, because he honestly didn’t have an answer to that. It wasn’t something he’d thought about: Colin was an enigma, full stop. That wasn’t something that could change.

A moment passed. ‘And why are you swearing so much tonight?’

God, surely at least that much was plain. ‘It’s been a Long – Fucking – Day. Remember? You were there, too. And it seems like the pain ain’t over yet.’

‘Bradley –’

‘Why are you so full of fucking questions tonight?’

Colin kinda huffed in laughter then. Ironic laughter that seemed directed at himself more than at Bradley. ‘Sorry.’ But he didn’t back off. He still lay there curled up beside Bradley, watching him as if eternally interested. ‘You wanna take turns? Like, you ask me a question, and then I ask you one?’

‘How’s that gonna help? You’ll still be giving me the third degree.’

‘Well, I guess –’ Then Colin stalled, and fell silent.

Which Bradley should have gone with as A Good Thing. Bradley really should have just taken the opportunity to leave well enough alone. But instead he found himself saying, ‘All right, I’ll go first. Why d’you keep staring at me all the time?’

Colin frowned at him, a bit puzzled. ‘Asked and answered. I’m just trying to… work you out.’

‘Honestly – what’s to work out?’ Bradley spread his arms; he had nothing to hide. ‘I’m just a WYSIWYG kinda guy, Colin. What you see is what you get.’

‘I dunno about that,’ Colin quibbled.

‘Who are you to tell me that? If I say this is all there is, then this is all there is!’

Colin gave him his best sceptical look; a real textbook expression.

 _‘What?!’_ cried Bradley.

And Colin rolled onto his back. ‘All right, hey, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.’

‘I’m gonna kill you, Morgan. I’m gonna garrotte you with the earbud cable. You know, the French will acquit me of murder if it was a crime of passion!’

And that blue gaze had already returned to him. Colin was vastly amused. ‘A crime of passion, so?’ he lilted. ‘Are you feeling passionate about me, Bradley?’

And the strangest sensation went through Bradley at those words, as if a sword had plunged right down through the middle of him, from his head to his heart to his… (All right, Bradley told himself sternly, leave that word blank.) And not in a horrid bloody death–dealing way, but in a clear sharp illuminating way. Which was a bit confusing, and obviously he wasn’t going to mention it to the guy lying beside him on his bed. Instead Bradley retorted, ‘Don’t go twisting everything around to suit your weird sense of humour, _Colin_.’

‘All right, all right,’ Colin murmured soothingly, curling back towards Bradley as if he were perfectly comfortable despite being threatened with murder.

‘Come on, you started this. I asked you a question. Least you can do is give me an honest answer.’ He glowered with intent. Then muttered, ‘Oh fuck,’ as the random playlist happened upon something particularly embarrassing.

Colin laughed happily. ‘ _Dancing Queen_? I didn’t know you were into the classics, Bradley.’

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’ He skipped the track. (The next was from REM’s _Monster_ , which was a lot less blush–worthy. _Yeah, all those stars drip down like butter…_ ) Bradley looked back at Colin with a raised brow, expecting an answer.

‘Well… maybe it’s got something to do with you being _really, really, ridiculously **good** looking_.’

‘Obviously.’ But he was not going to be distracted by movie references. Even cool ones. ‘And…?’

‘OK. I just think there’s more to you than meets the eye. And I’m trying to figure that out.’

‘Yeah, but _why_? I don’t get that. It’s not like I have any deep dark secrets.’

Colin reached for the scotch and took a mouthful.

Bradley snagged it back and took two.

‘Because… you’re a fun guy to be around, Bradley. You’re easy–going and funny and uncomplicated. You’re a complete dork at times. And I mean that in the nicest possible way,’ Colin quickly added when he saw Bradley taking exception. ‘Yeah, you do come across as this WYSIWYG kinda guy. Just one of the lads. Good for a beer and kicking a footy around.’

‘That’s what I’m _telling_ you,’ Bradley reminded him.

‘But Arthur’s not like that, is he?’

Bradley looked at him pityingly. ‘Did you not do Acting 101 in your Scottish drama school? There’s the character, and there’s the actor: two completely separate entities.’

Colin was grinning at him like an idiot. ‘Did you see the Ian McKellen episode of _Extras_?’

And suddenly Bradley was in serious danger of cracking up. ‘ _Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian,_ ’ he quoted. ‘ _Action, wizard, “You shall not pass!”, cut. Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian._ ’

Which Colin followed up with, ‘ _Case in point: Peter Jackson comes to me and says, “Sir Ian, I want you to be Gandalf the Wizard.” And I say to him, “You are aware that I am not really a wizard?”_ ’

And they were both falling about laughing, like it was the good old days. Back when Colin Morgan hadn’t spent all his time enigmatically watching Bradley and trying to figure him out. Bradley patted Colin on the shoulder, and broke it to him gently. ‘You are aware that you are not really a sorcerer?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Colin took a breath and said, ‘Arthur has a real authority, and a real intelligence about him. A real maturity, when he’s not being a prat. And I’m not quite sure where that’s coming from. I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

Bradley scrunched his face up. Oddly, he didn’t really feel offended, even though: ‘That’s about the most comprehensive insult anyone’s ever paid me.’

Colin sighed. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Not only do you think I’m a rubbish actor, but you think I’m stupid and immature.’

‘No…’

‘And lacking in authority.’

‘I’m just intrigued that we don’t get to see those things in you when you’re not playing Arthur. You’re a good actor – you’re gonna be a _great_ actor,’ he added when he saw Bradley looking at him, even though Bradley still wasn’t angry or anything. ‘But you know the craft: we’re not just making stuff up out of thin air. We’re drawing on our own knowledge and experiences and imagination. So, where did you learn so much about real authority?’

Bradley shrugged. ‘What would you draw on?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I’m intrigued.’

They both thought about this for a bit.

Then Colin added, ‘I know I’m not meant to say this because we’re all grown up now, but we’re young, we’re only just starting out. We fondly like to think we’re already men – but when we’re Tony’s age, Richard’s age, we’ll look back on ourselves and laugh about how wet behind the ears we were. And yet you play Arthur with this great psychological understanding.’

‘Merlin calls him a prat at least once an episode,’ Bradley protested.

‘No, he doesn’t. Anyway, I’m not saying Arthur has the understanding, I’m saying _you_ do. You’re bringing… wisdom to the role.’ Colin’s blue gaze met his own, and he softly repeated, ‘I’m intrigued.’

Bradley was stuck there on the web again, being watched by the spider. It was the strangest feeling, like every nerve within him was on full alert. But in a good way. Eventually he kinda shrugged, and asked, ‘So, does that actually add up to an insult or a compliment?’

Colin smiled his most enigmatic smile. Laughed a little. And said liltingly, ‘Maybe there’s a different explanation, so. Maybe I’m watching you, Bradley, because I have a crush on you.’

Bradley snorted at this. Colin’s accent was always thickest when he was teasing. Or when he was being utterly seriously honest. No doubt this was teasing. Wasn’t it? He shot a sideways glance at Colin, and found him serenely smiling and looking at Bradley quite directly.

‘My turn,’ said Colin. ‘Would you let me kiss you?’

A sharp breath. And then another snort. ‘That’s not a question.’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Not a solve–the–mystery–of–Bradley–James kinda question.’

‘It is, actually,’ Colin argued. ‘ _Would you let me?_ is exactly that kind of question.’

Bradley remained unconvinced.

‘So, now you answer _yes_ or _no_ , and then you tell me why. Or why not.’

‘What’s that got to do with _anything_?’

‘Well, obviously I wasn’t getting anywhere just watching you. Maybe kissing you will do the trick.’

‘I dunno how kissing me is gonna help solve the bloody mystery,’ he grumbled.

‘All right, all right,’ Colin said, and he subsided. ‘Never mind.’ Shifted over onto his back, and started paying more attention to the music.

Bradley felt a keen sense of loss. Which was ridiculous. He let another song go by, though the moment it ended he couldn’t remember what it was at all. Then he said, ‘Turn that bloody camera off, would you?’

‘All right.’

And once he could see that the red recording light was no longer glowing, Bradley said, ‘The answer’s yes.’

‘What?’

‘Yes, I’d let you.’ Bradley shot him a glance full of misgivings. ‘Don’t expect me to tell you why, though.’

Colin got fascinated all over again. He turned towards Bradley and pushed himself up a bit, that blue gaze focussed very intently on Bradley, but still maintaining a hint of wary distance. He got a bit closer, and Bradley didn’t pull away. The wariness giving way to doubt. ‘Are you _gonna_ let me…?’

‘Not if you don’t quit talking, for fuck’s sake.’

‘All right,’ Colin breathed. And he got closer still. Then pulled away again so he could sit up with his legs crossed, facing Bradley.

‘Will you get on with it already!’

‘All right, all right…’

Colin leaning in, and Bradley carefully not moving away, carefully not flinching away at the last moment. Those lips on his own, kinda unsure for a long moment – but then Bradley moved his a little, experimentally, and the kiss became sweet for an instant, then hot, and then clever – Colin’s mouth moving cleverly on his, as if he’d thought about this for a while and figured out what he wanted to do. Which was flattering, and deserved thinking about, but later.

Bradley grabbed the man’s shoulders, and hauled him closer still – Colin’s hands settled on Bradley’s chest and stomach, clutching for balance – and the kiss became passionate, intense, with no hint of cleverness at all, just raw and wonderful. That sword of clarity resounding within Bradley…

Finally Colin pulled away, just far enough away so he could sit up again. He was looking at Bradley’s mouth, and then that blue gaze lifted to meet Bradley’s eyes. Intrigued. Absolutely intrigued. ‘Wow,’ said Colin.

‘Yeah, wow,’ Bradley agreed. Then he asked, ‘So, did you learn anything?’

‘I think I’m starting to.’ Colin smiled winningly, cheekily. ‘I think I should try some more. Explore a bit. You know, try out a few theories…’

Bradley huffed a bit, finding himself surprisingly reluctant. Where did that come from? He’d liked the kiss. A lot. But now his instincts were clamouring at him to withdraw without further delay. He bent his head over the iPod, studying the display, tabbing sightlessly through the menus. ‘Nah, I don’t think so.’

‘What?’

‘That’s it, Morgan. You asked if you could kiss me; you kissed me; end of story.’

Colin gaped a bit. Then he grinned, but it was a lopsided expression as if he suspected Bradley was joking but he wasn’t really entirely sure. ‘You’re breaking up with me already?’

‘Seems like.’

‘God. Well. That’s the shortest relationship I’ve ever had. From first kiss to breaking up in about three minutes flat. Beats my previous record by… oh, at least five minutes.’

‘Shut up, Colin.’

‘Can we at least have break–up sex now? Or comfort sex. I think I need comfort sex.’

Bradley glared at him from under his brow. ‘ _Shut up_ , would you? I’m serious.’

Colin let a minute or two go by. Then he asked, ‘Why?’

‘It’s not your turn to ask a question.’

Colin gave a frustrated little growl. ‘You ask me one, then.’

Bradley directed a superior look in his general direction. ‘Nah. Don’t think I will, actually.’ Then he went into his fake hearty host routine. ‘Thanks _awfully_ for coming, old chap, but it’s been a _frightfully_ long day, and –’

‘God, just stop it, would you?’ Colin was mystified, maybe even a bit horrified, but he said very honestly, ‘Bradley, I like you, you know. _Really_ like you. And I feel as if I hardly understand a single thing about you. I actually feel like I understand you even less right now than I ever did.’

‘There’s nothing to understand!’ Bradley cried out in reply, a bit too loud, but he was having a hard time over this and he didn’t think he could manage to hit the right notes on any line whatsoever. ‘Don’t you get it? That was a nice three minutes, yeah? And it would have taken you another three to realise that there’s nothing more to me than this. I don’t bring wisdom to _anything_ , for fuck’s sake –’

‘Bradley –’

‘– I really don’t know what gave you _that_ idea. So there we’d be six minutes later, and you’d be realising I’m just a pretty face after all, nothing more than that, and we’d still beat your stupid bloody record by two minutes, and you’d break my fucking _heart_ , Morgan. So let’s just skip that bit, all right?’

‘Bradley…’ A hand gently settling on his thigh.

He twitched away. ‘Get off me!’

‘Your heart’s in danger of breaking?’

‘Just fuck off back to your own room, Morgan. You’ve had your fun.’

But Colin didn’t leave. Bloody obstinate idiot. He just sat there some more, with his head tilted away, thinking. Frowning a little. No doubt applying some _great psychological understanding_ to the problem of Bradley James. And Bradley would have just bodily thrown him out, if that hadn’t meant touching him again.

‘Bradley –’ he eventually started.

‘And take your pillows with you!’

‘Look… You think I’m an enigma, too, right?’

‘Fuck off,’ he muttered.

‘But I think of myself as a WYSIWYG kinda guy, just like you do. I mean, maybe that’s how we all are, Bradley. Maybe we all make sense to ourselves, and it all seems pretty plain – well, most of the time. It doesn’t seem complicated, anyway, and we think we’re giving ourselves away every moment of the day. But actually, other people think we’re a mystery.’

Colin left a pause, but Bradley didn’t say anything. He was still bent over the stupid iPod, but actually he was listening hard to what Colin said. Because it kinda made sense.

‘No one’s going to understand us in the same ways we understand ourselves. And how can they?’

Bradley sighed. He didn’t want to be having this conversation. But he couldn’t help observing, ‘I don’t think _everyone’s_ an enigma. Just you, Morgan.’

‘Fair point. I only think that about you, too.’

‘So what’s that mean?’

Another pause, damn him. Bradley refused to look up.

Eventually Colin said, rather quietly, ‘Maybe that just means we’re interested. Maybe it means we like each other.’

‘Mmm,’ said Bradley noncommittally.

Colin seemed to take courage from that. ‘I like you, Bradley. And I think you like me, too.’

‘Dunno.’

‘Well, you wanna find out?’

Of course he did. But it was so God–damned late, and as he rubbed at his face with both hands, a yawn swamped him, and all he could manage to say, in a slightly more conciliatory tone was, ‘Dunno.’

Colin was watching him, those blue eyes soft now. ‘Yeah, look, I’m tired, too. Long day, and all that.’

Bradley’s heart clenched. It was an impossible situation they’d got themselves into.

‘But if I go away now, there’ll be a hundred different reasons not to remember this in the morning. We’ll pretend that kiss was just a delusion brought on by exhaustion, or something.’

‘Mmm,’ Bradley agreed.

‘So, I’m gonna stay. All right? We’re not gonna try anything – In fact, let’s promise we won’t do anything. I’ll keep my clothes on. But I’m gonna sleep here, and then in the morning we can’t pretend this never happened.’

‘Mmm.’

‘Bradley…? You’ve gotta tell me that’s all right, so.’

‘Yeah,’ he muttered, ‘it’s all right.’

♦

They avoided each other’s gaze while getting ready for bed – which was a bit unnecessary, seeing as it only involved taking turns in the bathroom, heeling off their shoes, and Bradley taking off his belt. Then they rearranged the pillows – Colin chose one thin one, while Bradley took two fluffy ones – got under the covers, carefully settled without bumping into each other, and Bradley turned the lights off.

A still moment passed in the sudden darkness. Bradley concentrated on breathing quietly, all too aware that Colin was lying beside him, curled up on his side, facing Bradley – who was on his back, staring hard at where he judged the ceiling to be.

A long still moment… Colin’s breath came evenly, though a little deeper than Bradley’s. There was the slightest shake to it on the intake, as if he was having more trouble controlling it than Bradley was his. As if he wanted, more than anything, to –

‘Oh fuck it,’ Bradley said, because in the darkness there was nothing left but him and his friend and that sword illuminating everything that was important. And Bradley turned to Colin, and reached a hand, leaned in close – found his friend’s face in the dark, pressed his mouth to what turned out to be Colin’s cheek – but Colin turned into him, and they were kissing, kissing, and it was sweet and hot and intense. Reaching for each other’s hips, then fumbling with the buttons and zips of their jeans, hands on each other’s cocks –

Bradley’s breath hissed through his teeth – this was a man, this was a _man_ – but it was Colin, it was _Colin_ , his friend, his mate – who sensed Bradley’s last–ditch hesitancy despite the eager rock–hard cock Colin’s hand was wrapped around. Colin was decent enough to draw away a little, to take his hand away. ‘Bradley –’

‘For God’s sake, _don’t stop_ ,’ Bradley managed to grind out.

And then it was a confusion of tossing and tugging, kissing and muttered expletives, pushing up close and getting in each other’s way, and loving it – _God_ – _loving_ it – wanting more, wanting _so much more_ – and a very few minutes later (embarrassingly few) Bradley was coming with a shout, spurting all over the place, and then Colin was, too, muttering something that his accent turned into the filthiest of oaths. And Bradley was groaning, and still kissing hungrily – Colin’s mouth, cheek, jaw, whatever he could get to – and it lasted forever…

Until eventually they both quieted. Colin pressed a last, quiet, grateful kiss to Bradley’s mouth, and then turned away – and Bradley felt hurt and lost for a moment, until he felt Colin snuggling back into his arms, and they were spooning. Bradley curled up close, wrapped himself around his friend, started to murmur, ‘Col–’

But then the peaceful darkness fell over them both.

♦

Of course they were a complete mess in the morning – their clothes undone, and dried semen everywhere – but luckily Colin was the kind of guy who just seemed to look better and better the more dishevelled he was. Bradley lifted his gaze warily to meet those blue eyes. And for a moment Colin seemed a bit cool and remote, never mind that they were still deeply entangled in each other’s arms and legs.

Colin examined Bradley closely, and Bradley almost turned away. But then Colin burst into one of his beautiful mischievous grins. ‘Morning,’ he said.

‘Morning.’ Bradley swallowed, and then he bravely ventured, ‘I, uh, I guess maybe this means we got back together again. After our record three–minute relationship.’

‘God, yes. We’ve lasted _hours_ now.’

Bradley smiled. ‘It probably helps that we were asleep for most of them.’

That drew a chuckle. ‘I have some hopes we can manage well enough while we’re awake, too.’

Despite all the various demands of the day calling them already, they took a moment to rearrange themselves a little more comfortably into a mutual embrace.

Bradley pressed a kiss to that alarming mop of black hair. ‘Am I still an enigma?’

Colin considered him. ‘I still find you fascinating,’ he offered.

‘Haven’t solved the mystery yet, then?’

‘Not yet.’ Colin leaned in to press a kiss to Bradley’s temple. ‘It might take me a while,’ he said, somehow both boldly and cautiously.

‘Good,’ said Bradley. ‘So that’s settled.’

‘Aye,’ murmured Colin in his thickest accent. ‘It’s settled, so.’

♦


End file.
